Moments We Forget

by Beth K. Vogt

  “Yes. I want to. I need to.”

  This was the first time I’d ever struggled to talk with Harper. It was as if we’d been riding the same up escalator together, and now I’d switched to the escalator going down. I was stepping, stepping, my feet out of sync, trying to stay alongside her.

  Cancer had cost me so much. Was choosing to have faith—whatever that was going to look like—going to cost me my best friend, too?

  “What are you looking for, Jill?” Harper’s voice was serious.

  “Hope, I guess. No, not I guess. I know.” I pulled my knees up onto the couch and hugged them close. “I’m tired all the time, but not just physically tired. I want to figure out how to not be torn apart by my circumstances. My cancer may come back or not. Geoff may change his mind and decide he wants kids—or he may not. I may wake up one morning and feel like myself again. Or not. But no matter what, I want hope. I want to figure out who God is and if He can give me that.”

  “And I thought I was being brave, moving across the country to start my life over.”

  “I don’t feel very brave.”

  “You’re facing some tough circumstances—and you’re asking some tough questions.”

  “Are we okay?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. Nothing’s going to change our friendship.”

  I knew Harper meant what she said, just like she’d meant it when she said moving across the country wouldn’t change our friendship. But our relationship had already changed. There’d been no Skype Girls’ Nights since she left. Maybe that was because it was the holiday season—or maybe it was because the move had altered things. Our friendship wasn’t going to be the same.

  I could keep fumble-stepping up the escalator or I could stop and slide back down to the bottom.

  But Harper and I needed each other.

  “Jill, I was going to ask a favor of you.” Harper’s words brought the escalator to a sudden halt.

  “Go ahead and ask.”

  “Do you remember Gail Ferguson at the bank?”

  “I think so. She was a teller, right?”

  “Yes. She texted me that she was diagnosed with breast cancer—”

  “No!” Harper’s statement created an instant connection between me and a woman I barely remembered.

  “I know. It’s awful. I don’t know all the details, but I wondered if you’d be willing to talk with her. Maybe give her some advice?”

  I rested my chin on my knees. “But I don’t know her—why would she want to talk to me?”

  “You may not know her, but you understand what she’s going through. That’s what she needs—someone who understands. Who can listen, maybe answer some questions.”

  It wasn’t like my days were busy with commitments. What would meeting with Gail cost me—an hour or two at the most? She could talk, and I could smile, nod, say, “I understand.”

  Easy enough.

  “I guess I can do that.”

  “So I can give her your number?”

  “Sure. Tell her that she can text me. Maybe we can get together after New Year’s.”

  “I will. I know this will mean a lot to her.”

  Harper and I chatted for a few minutes more, promising to connect next week. As we hung up, my thoughts turned to Gail. I didn’t know her, but my heart hurt for her. The unknowns she faced. The decisions she’d have to make. How fighting cancer would change her life.

  I’d wait and see if she texted. I could always change my mind about meeting with her.

  But I wouldn’t.

  “HERE WE ARE AGAIN . . . The Thatcher Sisters’ Saturday Morning Book Club made it into the New Year.” I raised my fluted glass of orange juice in a toast to Johanna and Payton. “Happy New Year to us! That’s an accomplishment, isn’t it?”

  “Happy New Year—and happy anniversary to you, Jill.”

  “Yes, happy anniversary.” Payton joined in with Johanna’s impromptu toast. “Do you and Geoff have plans to celebrate?”

  “Nothing fancy—just a quiet dinner at home tonight.” I held up my hand, stalling any protests. “That’s what we want. The budget’s a little tight, what with finishing the reno and the holidays. And we’re both ready for something low-key.”

  “Then that’s perfect.” Payton offered a smile. “So is that our official name now—the Thatcher Sisters’ Saturday Morning Book Club?”

  “It doesn’t have to be. I just kind of said it this morning.”

  “Some book club we are. The real question is how much of this book we’ve read.” Johanna tapped the cover of the biography next to her plate.

  “Again with the total chapters between us?” Payton shrugged. “Less than ten, unless someone has read more since the last time we got together.”

  Johanna took a sip of her ice water. “I think we should abandon any idea of naming our little group and admit that your book club idea is a bust, Payton.”

  “Don’t judge a book club by just how many books, or chapters, we’ve read. We’ve gotten together the last five months. That’s a good thing, right?”

  “True, even if the last time we met we were all sitting at the bottom of the barrel, as I recall.” Johanna took a small bite of the vegan overnight oats she’d made for today. “Any change in virtual location since the last time we got together?”

  This was my cue.

  “For me, yes.”

  Johanna set her spoon down, more intrigued by my announcement than her breakfast. “You and Geoff come to some sort of agreement about children, Jill?”

  “No. It’s a nontopic for us now.”

  “So you’re just not talking about it? Or have you decided you don’t want children?”

  “I still want children. And Geoff hasn’t changed his mind. But I’m trying to give him time to tell me more of his story.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  I guessed I was going to be grilled by Johanna instead of saying what I wanted to say. “On Christmas Eve, Geoff told me that he also had a younger brother, Kyler.”

  Both Payton and Johanna gasped.

  I hurried on before they could begin asking questions. “Kyler was adopted. He died from a congenital heart defect. It was even more difficult for Geoff to talk to me about Kyler than it was for him to tell me about his older brother.” I swallowed back the sob that rose in my throat. “I know how crazy this all sounds . . . but Geoff and I have had a complicated relationship from the beginning, haven’t we?”

  “Why didn’t he tell you all of this sooner?” Johanna spoke up.

  “His parents don’t talk about either Brian or Kyler—and Geoff just followed their lead. What else could he do?” I twisted my hands together. “I tried to talk to Lilith about Kyler on Christmas morning and she shut me down. Told me, ‘This is not something we talk about.’”

  “How could she say that?” Payton shook her head.

  “She thinks it’s the best for her family.” Not that I could convince my sisters of something I didn’t believe. “But Geoff is talking about Kyler now. He even showed me a photo album of the two of them.”

  “That must have been so special—and difficult at the same time.”

  “I know it was good for him. For us.” The more I said it out loud, the more I believed it. “He doesn’t ever talk about his older brother, Brian. His family doesn’t talk about anything beyond the surface. But I think Geoff needs to remember his little brother. Talk about him. I love Geoff enough to listen . . . and wait.”

  “Process the grief.” Payton’s words were soft.

  “Yes.” If anyone could understand how much Geoff was hurting, Payton could, after bottling up all her emotions about Pepper’s death for ten years.

  Johanna shifted in her chair. “Are you hoping if Geoff talks enough about Kyler that he’ll change his mind about children?”

  “No. Maybe. I guess . . . I guess I’m giving God time to change me.”

  And now . . . now I waited.

  “God?” Johanna asked the question while Pay
ton offered me a smile.

  “Yes. God.”

  “What do you mean, Jill?” Johanna’s voice sharpened.

  “After talking to Zach and Payton and then talking with Payton again before Christmas—”

  “You’re not going to say you’re becoming a Christian, are you?” Johanna asked the question as if I were about to announce I was going to perform on Broadway. Or become a fisherman off the coast of Alaska. Or maybe do something fantastical like join the circus as a clown.

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to say, Joey.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Tight lines formed around Johanna’s mouth, her eyes narrowing. “You’re smarter than this.”

  “It’s not about being smart or not being smart.” I refolded my cloth napkin in half just to give myself a chance to gather my thoughts. “It’s about wanting hope in my life again.”

  “And some sort of made-up god gives you that?”

  “Yes. Believing in God, the real God—that He loves me, that He has a plan for my life—gives me hope.”

  “Even if that plan includes cancer? And no children? You’re okay with that kind of god?”

  “I’m new at this, Johanna. I don’t understand how all of this works. Why my life includes cancer . . . and, very possibly, no children.” I forced myself to meet Johanna’s eyes. “But yes, my faith, as new as it is, helps me. Life’s not perfect. And I’m not perfect. But for the first time, I’m beginning to be okay with that because I don’t have to have all the answers. I don’t have to fix everything. I don’t have to pretend like nice thoughts are enough . . .”

  “Nice thoughts?”

  Trying to explain all of this to Johanna, who was battering me with questions, was like being the new kid in school and having to stand up in class, introduce myself, all the while wondering what everyone else was thinking. If they would like me. Accept me.

  “Here’s one for you: ‘Positive thoughts generate positive thoughts and attract positive life experiences.’ Do you like that one? I said it over and over again for months . . . and I still felt like ‘just Jillian.’”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Of course I’d get cancer . . . not you. Not Payton. It’s just me, just Jillian. I didn’t matter that much anyway, did I? Stuck in the middle between the superachieving older sister and the amazing twins . . . who saw me?”

  Johanna gasped. “Jilly, that’s not true—”

  “It is. It’s the truth I’ve lived with for years. Just. Jillian. Do you know how long I’ve worn those two words like a brand on my soul?” The tears wouldn’t be held back now. “My life has been all about losing and can’t have and won’t have, and I want something more . . . I hope there’s more. And guess what? God wants me just for me.” I sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not settling, Jo, so don’t even say that. I’m going to figure out how to love my husband for who he is right now . . . although I don’t even know what that means.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But I had to tell my sisters sometime. Johanna remained frozen in her chair, but Payton came and knelt beside me, tears in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Jill.” Payton’s hand rested on mine. “I know I said it before, but I’m sorry we stuck you in the middle so often.”

  I inhaled a shuddering breath, unsure what to say.

  Payton squeezed my hand. Hesitated for a moment before saying, “And I understand.”

  I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I know you do.”

  Payton positioned herself so that she could look at both me and Johanna. “Since we’re on the topic of faith this morning, I’ll say that I’ve done a lot of thinking about God and why I do or don’t believe in Him. It was all mixed up with Pepper and Zach. I finally realized that of course it would be. Pepper was the one who first talked to me about God. And then Zach continued the conversation. I realized I could love God, believe in God, just for myself—and still love Pepper and Zach, too.”

  “Everyone knew you and Zach were in love with one another, Payton.” Johanna seemed willing to ignore the topic of God and address their relationship.

  “Well, we couldn’t do anything about our feelings for one another until I knew where I stood with God.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I don’t like religion—too many can’ts and don’ts.” Johanna leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.

  “I don’t want to discuss ‘religion’ with you, Jo.” Payton’s eyes brimmed with joy. “But what would you both say if I told you Zach and I are getting married?”

  If I hadn’t been holding on to my sister’s hand, I might have toppled over. “You’re marrying Zach?”

  “Yes.”

  I held her hand up. “You’re not wearing a ring.”

  “I left it at home today.”

  “You have an engagement ring and you left it at home?”

  “I figured you and Johanna would notice it pretty quickly.”

  “Payton, this is crazy.”

  “What? Getting married or not wearing my engagement ring?”

  “Both, I think.”

  Payton shook her head, overtaken by another laugh. “Wait until I tell you when we’re getting married.”

  “When?”

  “Zach and I were thinking of February.”

  “Next month?”

  “Yes. We want something simple. Just family.” Payton paused. “We want to have the ceremony up at Zach’s cabin, by Pepper’s bench.”

  “An outdoor ceremony? In February?” Johanna spoke up at last.

  “I realize we’ll all probably be wearing snow boots and coats and mittens. We’ll look a little wintry in the wedding photos. Who knows? It might even be snowing. But we’ll make it work. And the ceremony will be brief. It’s not like we can even have any music outside. I admit I’m a little disappointed about that, but like I said, it’s just family, so that’s okay.”

  “After the ceremony, what are we going to do? Go to Zach’s cabin for hot chocolate?”

  “That would be fun.” Even Johanna’s bit of sarcasm couldn’t dim Payton’s happiness. “But no, we’ll drive into Breck to a nice restaurant for dinner, and then Zach and I’ll leave you all to figure out what else you want to do for the rest of the evening.”

  All that time I’d never been certain what was going on with Payton and Zach. And then she’d said nothing could go on between them. Now here she was, telling me they were getting married in a month.

  “Congratulations, Payton.” Johanna’s response was oddly brief.

  “That’s all you’re going to say, Jo?” I never thought I’d have to correct my oldest sister on her manners.

  “Of course I’m happy for you and Zach, even if an outdoor wedding in February in Winter Park is a bit . . . unique.” Johanna’s glance wavered. “But I won’t be joining the two of you on the ‘got God’ side of the line this morning. I didn’t quite anticipate this two-against-one religious turn of events.”

  “We’re not against you, Johanna.” Payton rose and returned to her chair.

  “It certainly seems like you two are on one side and I’m on the other—the more reasonable, logical side, I might add. Our family has done just fine without religion. I don’t understand why you both seem to feel some need for it now.”

  “There’s more to life than ‘doing fine.’”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. We’re all successful—”

  “If you call all of us being at the bottom of the barrel successful.”

  “Can we just drop this conversation? I’ll even congratulate the two of you on this God thing, if you want.”

  “It’s fine, Johanna.” Even Johanna’s reaction couldn’t erase the smile from Payton’s face. “You don’t have to say anything else.”

  “Like I said, I am happy for you and Zach.”

  “I want you and Jillian with me when I get married, so we’ll need to talk dresses.”

>   “That’ll be fun. Have you told Mom and Dad yet?”

  “Zach and I were planning on telling them tomorrow.”

  “Will Dad be walking you down the aisle, then?”

  “No. It’ll be very casual. No aisle. We’ll all meet at Zach’s—the pastor and his wife, too—and then walk together to Pepper’s bench. We can talk about this more tomorrow. Do you think Beckett will be able to be there?”

  “No.” Johanna’s voice seemed to chill. “No. He won’t be there.”

  “His schedule isn’t going to slow down anytime soon, is it?” Payton shook her head. “Do you think he can ask his boss to have the day off for the wedding?”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “It won’t be necessary?”

  “It seems as if all of the Thatcher sisters are starting the New Year off with some big life changes. Now’s as good a time as any to tell you that I broke things off with Beckett.” Johanna raised her hand to reveal the absence of her engagement ring.

  “Johanna!” Payton stood again, rocking her chair back.

  “What happened?” Even as I asked the question, Johanna’s jaw clenched.

  “The guy cheated on me.” She pressed her lips together. “And that’s all I want to say about it, okay?”

  “Johanna—”

  “Since I seem to be the only Thatcher sister still sitting at the bottom of the barrel, I might as well tell you that I also quit my job.”

  I couldn’t have heard her right. Johanna quitting her job was even crazier than her breaking up with Beckett. “Why would you quit?”

  “Because my new boss and I have fundamentally different philosophies when it comes to managing employees.” She forced a laugh. “But do you want to hear the funny thing?”

  “There’s something humorous about you quitting your job?”

  “Axton Miller wouldn’t accept my resignation. He said I wasn’t a quitter—”

  “He’s right. You’re not.”

  “And then he said he would talk to me in a few days.”

  “And?” Payton sat back in her chair.

  “That all happened the week before Christmas. We haven’t talked since then.”

  It was as if Payton and I had climbed out of the barrel and were staring down at Johanna—not that Johanna would want to think of it that way. I had to be careful what I said or did next. My older sister didn’t like to be taken care of. But I could do a little something for her.